


As We Sleep III

by Crowgirl



Series: Scars Remind Us [25]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:05:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ongoing discussion, and ramifications thereof, between Dean and Castiel about the after-effects of Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As We Sleep III

XXV.

Sometime in the night, Dean has a dream. He’s in the Impala and the heat won’t turn off. It just keeps getting hotter and stickier and nastier until he finally wakes up and realises it isn’t so much a dream.

There’s a faint track of moonlight across the floor and the blind of the furthest window is moving slightly in a breeze, but the bed is warm, toasty even, and Dean feels like he’s in a steam room. The t-shirt isn’t so bad but his kneecaps are sweating.

He catches his toes in the inside hems of his jeans and tries to drag them off his legs with as little actual movement as possible. But Cas is curled too tightly against his side and he can’t get the zip open enough to ease the denim past his hips.

Then Cas coughs and Dean freezes as he feels Castiel’s fingers, now warm from sleep, and blankets, and, Dean realises, contact with Dean’s bare skin, fumble at the zipper and tug it down. Then Castiel pats his ribs and, apparently, goes straight back to sleep.

If Dean was a little more awake, he’s sure he could work up to being offended by the casual reassurance in Castiel’s touch – what is he, an eight-year-old who can’t get his pants off by himself? – but he’s exhausted and half-asleep and now, at least, the jeans are off, kicked out from under the covers onto the floor. He tugs off his shirt at the same time, not letting himself think about anything else except getting cool enough so he can go back to sleep.

He pushes down the blankets, and now he can feel the breeze, cool on his chest. The dim glow of moonlight is even enough for him to look down and see Castiel’s dark head pillowed on his shoulder. The smaller man has one hand loosely curled on his chest and he can see Castiel’s skin is pale in the moonlight, paler than Dean’s.

Dean reaches out cautiously and puts his hand on Castiel’s bicep, flattening his fingers there, feeling the warmth and smoothness of the other man’s skin. There’s solidity, too – Castiel is more muscular than he’d’ve guessed under that cheap blue suit. The moonlight doesn’t give Dean much to go by, but he can see shadows on Castiel's side and chest that hint at planes of muscle.

And just like that his hands are shaking again -- and he can’t tell if it’s because he wants so damned much to lean over and kiss Cas awake or if it’s because he wants to run the fuck away.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Anthem of the Angels," Breaking Benjamin, _Dear Agony._
> 
> Fair warning: it's gonna get rocky for the boys for awhile. I'm trying to get far enough ahead in the story that I can post the chunk o' angst and then some fix-it. Wish me luck, please!


End file.
